


standing at the beginning with you

by helsinkibaby



Series: Protection [13]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Happily Ever After, Het, Rare Pair, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first morning of the rest of Ellie's life, in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	standing at the beginning with you

It was the first morning of the rest of her life.

The first morning in eight years that she was able to get up and know that there was no Secret Service protection outside her front door. She would be able to go to the hospital on her own, walk around without feeling like she was being followed. There would be no press recording her movements, no camera lenses trained on her, documenting her every move for posterity.

She wasn't the President's daughter any more, and as she showered and dressed, Ellie couldn't stop smiling.

She was still smiling when she came into the kitchen, something that caused her flatmate Chrissie to groan. "How can you be so bright and breezy this morning?" she moaned, clutching her head, glaring at Ellie through bleary eyes. Unlike Ellie, Chrissie was still clad in her pyjamas, hair all over the place, last night's mascara marking dark circles against her skin. In contrast, Ellie was dressed in comfortable black jeans and a red jumper, her hair left loose, falling in waves to just past her shoulders. She shot Chrissie an evil grin, tucking a strand behind her ear as she stared at her after filling a coffee cup.

"Maybe because unlike some people, I didn't stay out celebrating the Inauguration till all hours of the night." She'd been to the ceremony with the rest of her family, had gone to dinner with them afterwards, made a cursory appearance at the first of the balls before leaving, citing work commitments. "Some of us have to work today."

"You're not in till this afternoon," Chrissie pointed out, still staring daggers at her. "You could have stayed."

"I could have," Ellie conceded, popping a slice of bread in the toaster. "But I've had the whole Inauguration experience…twice." And that had been more than enough for her.

At the table, Chrissie rolled her eyes. "You're too good for your own good," she muttered, and Ellie just shrugged, not replying. Chrissie drank a few more mouthfuls of coffee before she spoke again, her eyes dancing as she asked, "So, what does it feel like?"

"What does what feel like?" The smile was back on Ellie's face again, because she knew just what Chrissie was referring to.

"Being a free woman." Chrissie had been subjected to Ellie's rant about the necessary evil of the Secret Service more than once in the two years that they'd been living in Washington together, and she'd had cause to weigh in more than once herself. "No more men in black…or women… lurking around you."

The toast popped out of the toaster and Ellie caught it with a triumphant grin, wheeling around to her friend. "Pretty damn good," she admitted, laughing, and Chrissie joined in for a moment, before wincing, clapping her hand to her head again. "How much did you have to drink last night?" Ellie wondered, and Chrissie waved a hand, probably not wanting to risk shaking her head.

"Too much," was all she said. "I am never drinking again."

"You say that every time."

"This time I mean it." She paused then, thoughtful. "Unless you want to go out tonight to celebrate your freedom."

Ellie laughed again. "I don't think my father would be best pleased if the first thing I did was go out partying," she pointed out, and Chrissie rolled her eyes again.

"True," she snickered. "Mine wouldn't like it either…he's quite liked the added house security the last two years."

"Fathers," Ellie muttered, with rolled eyes of her own. Her mother and father had stayed in Washington the previous night, but were going back to Manchester today, and they'd already asked her to go with them. She'd told them that she couldn't get the time off work, something that they'd both understood, but she had a feeling that her father was already working on ways to get her to move to a hospital somewhere in New Hampshire. He'd been thrilled when she'd taken her current job at GW, but that had been as much to do with her close proximity to them as the job itself. She and her father were getting along much better over the last couple of years, but she had no intention of giving up her job, and was already working on arguments that she could use to trump him.

Chrissie looked as if she was going to say something, but her words were cut off, changed into a squeal of pain as the phone, resting on the island separating kitchen and living room, began to ring. She dropped her head down onto the table, and Ellie laughed a little more, standing to answer it quickly. "If it's for me," came Chrissie's voice, "Tell them I'm dead."

"Will do," Ellie promised before clicking the answer button. "Hello?"

"Hello." It was a man's voice, one that sounded more than a little familiar to her, but not one she'd heard recently. Still though, she knew exactly who it was, and her heart, as it always did on the rare occasions she encountered him, skipped a beat. "May I speak to Ellie please?"

"This is Ellie."

There wasn't a pause from the voice at the other end. "Well then good morning." A beat. "You know who this is?"

"I do." She ignored Chrissie's by now curious gaze, twisting a lock of hair around her finger nervously, turning around and pacing the living room, unsure of what to say. Aside from sporadic brief encounters, she'd hardly spoken to him in more than two years, certainly not one on one like this, without having to be mindful of prying eyes. "How did you get this number?" He would have had her cell, but not the apartment number.

"Years of professional training and you have to ask me that question? I'm hurt." He didn't sound hurt though, just amused, and she smiled, the answer coming to her.

"Zoey gave it to you."

A deep chuckle confirmed her guess. "Yes," he said, and she could picture his wide, ready smile. "Your sister gave me your number."

"Why would she do that?" Ellie's pacing had taken her into the kitchen, where Chrissie frowned up at her, mouthing the words, "Who is it?" Ellie made a face at her, shaking her head vehemently, wanting to hear his answer.

"I think she wanted to make sure that you weren't missing the Secret Service too much," he said, deadpan, and she looked heavenward, a laugh forming deep inside her, bubbling out. "I know how much you've appreciated our presence these past eight years."

Ignoring Chrissie's look of abject surprise - because she probably hadn't heard Ellie laugh like that too often - Ellie leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing her free arm over her waist. "That's very thoughtful of both of you," she said.

"We're thoughtful people." There was a pause, and though she couldn't explain why, Ellie felt as if the earth tilted just a little on its axis. When he spoke again, he was serious, all traces of fun gone. "Thoughtful people who care about you."

Ellie swallowed hard, closing her eyes for a second in a vain effort to garner some self-control. "Wes…" she said, but that was all she could say.

"I've missed you," he said, and she could feel tears beginning to prickle at the back of her throat, and cursed herself that he could still have this effect on her. It had been over five years since they'd been together, if you could even call it that, and she'd devoted long tracts of that time to convincing herself that she was over him. Unfortunately, every time she'd just about convinced herself of that, she'd run into him, and have to start all over again. It was crazy and it was wrong and she hated herself for it, but she loved him, and that was the entire problem.

Steeling herself, she set her jaw, bracing her free hand against the counter, as if that would give her strength. "We've been over this, Wes," she told him, trying not to notice that Chrissie was now standing, approaching her with concern and curiosity vying for supremacy on her face. "We can't do this…"

"We couldn't do it then," he countered.

"And what's changed?" But as she said it, it hit her.

As of yesterday, everything had.

As if reading her mind, he answered her question. "You're not the President's daughter any more. Not a protectee anymore."

"You're still an agent." Beside her, Chrissie's eyes flew open wide, and Ellie looked down at the kitchen floor tiles, very interested in the pattern suddenly.

"I’m an agent who is on holidays for the next three weeks," he told her. "Free to do as I please. With whom I please."

Her heart sped up, because that was an invitation to an invitation if ever she'd heard one. Momentarily emboldened, she heard her own voice barely croaking, "You have plans?"

"Well, kind of…" He paused, and if she'd wanted to speak, she wouldn't have been able to. "I was hoping to take you out…maybe dinner and a movie…we could go dancing… anything you want." There was another pause. "I want to see you, Ellie."

She sucked in a deep breath, because she wanted that more than anything. But she'd wanted it for a long time, and she'd already been burned badly once. She wasn't sure that she could stand it a second time. "What if I'm already seeing somebody?" she asked.

Beside her, there was a shocked gasp. "But you're not!" Chrissie hissed, and Ellie shot her a venomous look, hoping that he hadn't heard that.

There was a hastily stifled sound of amusement from the other end, but when Wes spoke, he was serious again. "Then that's too bad for him," he said. "Because I'm not giving you up without a fight. I made that mistake already."

She would not cry, Ellie resolved, no matter how much she wanted to. "What makes you think I want to see you?"

Chrissie's eyes were wide circles of exasperation, but he was perfectly calm. "You don't have a choice."

Ellie laughed in pure shock. "I don't have a choice?" she echoed.

"No," he said. "Look out your front window."

"What's outside my front window?" she asked, already moving, but Chrissie, hangover momentarily forgotten, was quicker than her, beating her there and peeking through the blinds. Once there, she laughed once, as if in shock, then turned back to Ellie, who was unaccountably frozen halfway there.

"Ellie, there's a Secret Service agent on a cell phone across the street," Chrissie told her, not making any effort to keep her voice down, and from the other end of the phone came his voice.

"That would be me."

She wasn't sure how she got there, but the next thing Ellie knew, she was at the window, looking at him, watching his lips move, hearing his voice through the phone at her ear. "I meant what I said just now," he told her. "I didn't fight for you five years ago and I have regretted it every day since then. And you can deny it, you can ignore me all you want, but I'm not going away, not this time." Looking at him, she could see the resolve in his face, could feel his eyes boring lasers into hers, stealing her voice. "You are the woman of my dreams, and I'm not letting you go."

Tears slipped down Ellie's face and she brushed at them impatiently, Chrissie gripping her arm tightly, her friend's eyes trained on Wesley even as her ear was leaning towards the phone. "You really mean that?" Ellie choked out, and was rewarded by a slow firm nod.

"I do."

Ellie held his gaze for a moment longer, then dropped the phone slowly, pressing one button, the dial tone immediately filling her head. Beside her, Chrissie took a step back, staring at her in shock. "Ellie, get out there. Now."

But Ellie didn't need to be told.

The apartment door banged behind her, but she didn't apologise for slamming it. The hall had never seemed so long, the flight of stairs down to the main door had never contained so many steps. But when she got outside, when she was standing on the steps down to the footpath, he wasn't across the street where he'd been standing as he talked to her.

He was at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her, smiling that broad smile that had filled her dreams on any number of nights.

Sliding his cell phone into his coat pocket, he gestured up at the apartment window. "Your room-mate told me you were on your way," he explained. "She seems nice…I think I'm going to like her."

"What makes you think you're going to meet her?" she challenged, going down one step, then pausing.

He shrugged, his grin growing wider, something she would have said wasn't possible. "Call it an intuition," he said. "I think I'm going to be spending lots of time here."

She took another step closer to him. "I'm not the same person I was five years ago," she told him, more tears coming to her eyes as she spoke, because experience was a hard master, and none of the lessons she'd learned had come cheap. "Neither are you. We've both changed…we've been with other people, we've gone on with our lives… what makes you think we can work?"

He didn't alter his stance, didn't break her gaze. "Because I know you, Ellie," he told her. "Not the President's daughter. Not Doctor Bartlet. Not Liz's little sister, or Zoey's big sister. I know you." He paused to let that sink in. "And I love you." Her breath caught in a sob, his words letting free her tears, and she took another step as he continued. "I have loved you since I first met you. I loved you every day we were apart, and I will love you for the rest of our lives… no matter what you say right now."

But she wasn't going to say anything, because the lump in her throat was too big to speak around. So she didn't reply in words, just stood before him, on the last step before the ground, and nodded once, before throwing her arms around his neck, all but leaping into his arms. He exhaled with a laugh, holding her tightly, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, before setting her back down on the ground, and that's when she pulled away from him so that she could see his face.

"I love you too," she told him, more tears spilling free at the admission, and he tilted his head, looking vaguely worried, if not a little amused as well.

"Don't cry…" he half-chuckled, reaching up with one hand to brush the tears away, and she recoiled in shock at his touch.

"You're freezing," she told him, and he shrugged.

"It's January in Washington," he said, and she was reminded of a night four years ago, in the Sculpture Garden of the White House, a night when they'd danced without music, held one another close. "Besides, you're the one who's out here without a coat. Or a wrap." The last was said with a glint in his eye, and she knew that he was remembering too.

"How long were you out here?" she asked, and he shrugged again, returning his hand to her back.

"A while," was all he said. "But you're worth the wait."

The words were heavy with meaning, and a shiver that had nothing to do with cold ran up her spine. "So are you," she told him, raising herself up on her toes, bringing her lips to his, kissing him properly for the first time in years, the first time ever that she'd been able to do it so openly.

She didn't know how much time passed before she opened her eyes again, and when she did, she was almost surprised to find that she was standing, because it didn't feel like her feet were touching the ground. The feeling only intensified when he gave her his million dollar smile, and without taking her eyes off his face, she slid her hand down his arm, entwining his fingers with hers, leading him back up the steps and into the building.

It was the first day of the rest of her life, and Ellie couldn't stop smiling.


End file.
